Skinned (4 page)

Melissa's eyes narrowed sceptically. Callum could see her disbelief even in the dark, and it came as no surprise that she protested.

‘That's not much of a challenge,' Melissa said doubtfully.

‘He's right though, Melissa. You spend half your time reading books about practically anything to do with the supernatural anyway, right? It could really be helpful.'

Jacob nodded. ‘Callum is lucky to have you as his source. You can make up for his lost time – add your existing knowledge to the wealth of information that Callum's father left him.'

‘Fine. I'll do that,' Melissa said. ‘But can't I do something else too? Why bring me here otherwise? Can't I do something a bit more . . . I don't know, a bit more
active
?'

‘It is too dangerous,' Jacob said shortly.

‘But I can learn things too,' she said. ‘Ordinary
people have fought against the Netherworld before, surely?' She lifted her arm, and the bone sparrow that Jacob had sent her darted to land on her wrist. ‘I mean, I have a head start. I've been interacting with the Netherworld, I have some idea what to expect – it can't be that big a leap for me to do something more than reading a couple of books?'

‘It is a
war
, Melissa,' he stated flatly. ‘Only those with power can take on the Netherworld.'

Melissa dropped her hand so suddenly that the bone bird lost its balance and fell to the frozen ground with a clatter. It recovered itself and fluttered back to hover by her shoulder. She folded her arms. Perhaps she was cold again, but to Callum it looked distinctly like she was sulking.

‘Fine, I'll be one of those women watching from sidelines while the men head off into battle, shall I? I'll read Callum's dusty books. But what exactly am I supposed to do, just march up to Callum's gran and say, “Hi, can I borrow those ancient tomes of chime child lore?”'

Jacob's gaze was steady. ‘I do not believe she would
mind, now that she knows you are on her side – that you share her goals to protect and aid Callum.'

Jacob turned to Callum. ‘Tell your grandmother that is why you came out tonight – to meet Melissa, so she can collect the books and read them for you. But best not to tell her you have been talking to a ghost.'

‘Yeah, I think that's a given,' Callum said with a smile, but Jacob's face was serious.

‘Your grandmother has been protecting you from the Netherworld all your life,' he said. ‘Finally, she is beginning to accept the path you must take. But she is fearful for your safety and somehow I do not think she would be too pleased if she hears a Born Dead and a Grim are teaching you to use your chime child powers. In any discussion of your training, and indeed in all matters, I think it best not to mention me at all . . .'

The corridor is dark and wet. Black Annis drags a solid, bulky load along the new passage she has tunnelled into the ground. The sandstone walls are streaked with clay, and the smell is of earth and roots and mould. She needs no light to navigate her way; she is at home underground. Her glowing eyes penetrate the darkness effortlessly. It feels good to be deep in the earth. She is certain hers are the only feet to have trodden this damp course in five hundred years and more. The path leads to her old lair.

Black Annis pauses, resting. The burden she drags along behind her is slowing her down, and having crossed at the first weakening point of the Boundary, she needs
time to adjust to being back in the mortal world. She is a long way from her full strength, but she knows it is only a matter of time before it is restored.

It is good to be back in the world of men, however changed it may be. Black Annis can feel her power flowing back to her with each meal, the nourishing potency of human children's flesh. Black Annis heaves her burden to her shoulders once again. The delicious smell of fear seeps through the sack. Black Annis breathes it in deeply and tangy saliva floods her mouth as she looks forward eagerly to her next meal . . .

Her luminous eyes can see an opening in the darkness ahead – the entrance to her underground grotto at last. The place is exactly as she left it all those centuries before. But time doesn't matter to Black Annis. She does not age.

She steps through the stone entrance into a large, empty cave. Her eyes glow as she looks around. This still feels like home. She sighs with relief and with weariness. She drops the heap she carries to the ground, and it stirs.

Annis decides she will hold off for a moment. Instead, she unties the fresh pelt from her meal a few hours ago
from her skirts and hangs it to dry. Soon there will be another to join it.

She cannot wait any longer.

Black Annis bends low and frees the child she has carried to her lair from the covering that muffles it. In the darkness, at the light first touch of Annis' cold, sharp claws, the child faints, its body going limp. No matter.

She marks the spot she needs with the point of one talon. Then, with one deft movement, she sinks her claw into the child's heart.

Now Black Annis does not hesitate. She makes the first cut in the dead child's skin with her razor-sharp talons. She slices again, deft and sure, and again. In less than a minute, she has another pelt to add to her collection.

Trembling in anticipation of her meal, Black Annis sinks her stained teeth into the flesh, and tears hungrily.

Callum walked down the hill away from the ruined church with Melissa quietly striding beside him. He could almost feel her brain churning over a fresh argument about being more actively involved in their new mission. He decided it was safer not to talk to her about it for the time being. He had enough on his own mind right now. In any case, they had another task to deal with first . . .

The porch light of Gran's cottage beckoned them back through the cold woodland. Callum could just about make out the figure of his gran in the window, perched on the edge of her armchair in the nook
under the stairs, waiting for Callum anxiously. She could see directly up the road out of the sitting room window from that vantage spot, and these days it seemed she was sitting there more and more.

Gran's radio-cassette player was a pretty good indicator of her mood. As Callum opened the front door, he could hear the radio tootling a nervous jazz riff, over and over. But when Callum stepped into the room, the radio gave a burst of static and then went silent. Callum could tell right away that Gran was annoyed with him. It was visible in her thin-lipped, humorless expression.

‘That was a very long walk,' Gran said stonily. Then, with a weary effort at politeness, she added, ‘Oh, hello, Melissa.'

‘Hi, Mrs Scott.'

‘I went right up to the edge of the housing estate,' Callum said evasively. ‘And then I bumped into Melissa. And, uh, I thought I spotted the cat. I thought maybe he'd strayed off.'

‘Cadbury's asleep on the stovetop,' said Gran. ‘You know he likes it there when it's still warm. You could
have checked. And you could have told me how long you were planning to be out. You know I like to know where you are, especially when it's this late, and especially when . . .'

She let the rest of the sentence go unfinished.

Callum finished it for her. No point in avoiding the issue. ‘I know.
Especially when the Shadowing has begun
.'

‘It's begun?' Gran repeated anxiously. ‘Already? How do you know . . .?'

She trailed off, suddenly glancing at Melissa nervously.

‘Don't worry about it,' Callum said curtly. ‘Melissa already knows about the Shadowing. Look, Gran, let's just be honest. There's no point in me hiding – I have a duty now.'

‘Oh, Callum,' Gran said, unable to keep the concern from her voice. ‘You'll do nothing but put yourself in danger. You're a
schoolboy
, for heaven's sake. How do you expect to save the world? It's like . . . it's like a
war
, Callum, and it should be fought by trained soldiers who know what they're doing. You're not strong enough. You don't know enough.'

Callum noticed Melissa was smiling faintly – it was almost the same lecture she'd had from Jacob a quarter of an hour ago. But he wasn't amused.

‘Gran,' Callum said. ‘The problem is, there are no trained soldiers. I'm the last chime child. This whole thing is falling on
my
shoulders, and I haven't got a clue what's expected of me. If you hadn't kept all of this a secret from me for so long, I'd be a hundred per cent better equipped for dealing with it.'

The accusation stopped Gran in her tracks. She braced herself with her hands gripping the armrests of her chair, her feet flat on the floor. She looked a bit like an old soldier herself, with her short, close-cut iron-grey hair and grim, determined expression.

‘Don't be angry, Mrs Scott,' Melissa cut in diplomatically from behind Callum's shoulder. She took a few steps forward and glanced from Gran to Callum, adding earnestly, ‘Look, it's bad enough thinking about the Shadowing without us all lying to each other. It's pretty obvious Callum wasn't looking for the cat – he was looking for me. We've had an idea about how to make up for some of that lost time –'

‘I need my books,' Callum said bluntly.

Gran blinked. ‘Your books?'

‘The chime child books,' Callum said. ‘I need to learn what's in them.'

‘Callum, no, you can't just –'

‘Gran, I hate to say this, but if you don't hand them over, I'm going to have to just take them.' Callum folded his arms and looked at his grandmother expectantly. Gran matched his gaze for a moment, before finally sighing hard and pushing herself to her feet. She dragged a chair across the room to the high shelf where she had hidden the ancient books behind a bland selection of gardening manuals.

‘I don't know how you're going to learn what you need to in the time you've got,' Gran muttered grimly. ‘Try the scrapbooks first, maybe . . .'

Callum exhaled and smiled at his gran gratefully.

‘Brilliant,' Callum said, but then he hesitated, sure that his next news wouldn't go down well. ‘Melissa's actually going to get started with them. We thought – our idea was that Melissa could read the books first, since she already knows a little about what to expect
and what she's looking for, and then she could tell me which bits to focus on.'

‘But only if it's all right with you, Mrs Scott,' Melissa put in hastily, her gaze as imploring as a puppy's. Callum wanted to tell her that Gran wasn't the sort to be easily won over, but his grandmother was already doing that for him.

‘Well, I fail to see how that would work,' Gran said, pausing by the shelf and putting her hands on her hips.

‘Uh . . .' Melissa mumbled. ‘Well I was hoping to take them home and get reading, so that –'

‘Take them home?' Gran said, her voice incredulous. ‘Absolutely not.'

‘Gran –' Callum began.

‘Absolutely not,' Gran said again, her arms folded now. ‘Those books do not leave this house.'

Callum set his jaw. He wasn't going to back down – two could play at that game. ‘Gran, we have to do this. If Melissa can't take the books home, then she's going to have to come here and read them. Starting tonight.'

He held Gran's gaze for what felt like an eternity
before she finally sighed once more. Climbing on to the chair now by the window, she silently reached up to the top bookshelf behind the low ceiling beam and began to take down the front row of books. Callum let out his breath lightly as she began handing down the first of the ancient books.

‘Fine,' Gran said through gritted teeth. She paused. ‘Callum, you must know, I'm not doing this willingly. If there was any way I could think of to make sure you didn't have to be involved –'

‘Gran . . .' Callum said, shaking his head sadly. Even though he was still angry, he knew this was hard for her. ‘I
am
involved. There's no way around it. Look at the mess we got in when you tried to keep me out of it all. Trust me, this is for the best. If Melissa can give me a digested version of what's in the books, it'll leave me more time to try and get up to speed with training to fight . . . whatever it is I'll need to fight.'

Gran pursed her lips. Callum could tell she wanted to say something about his training, but she stopped herself short. ‘Well, at the very least, two heads are better than one,' she muttered.

Callum thought the look on her face seemed to suggest she wasn't entirely convinced when it came to Melissa's head.

‘Great, thank you, Mrs Scott . . .' Melissa said as she took the books from Gran. Then she paused. Callum could tell from the glint in Melissa's eye that she had some other scheme brewing, but he was shocked by what she said next.

‘You know – seeing as I'll be coming here to look at the books anyway, maybe it would help if you would teach me some magic too?'

Gran dropped the book in her hand, startled.

‘What? Melissa!' Callum exclaimed.

Melissa rushed over to pick up the book, ignoring both Callum's and his grandmother's surprise, and looking up at the older lady expectantly.

‘Callum told me you know some, Mrs Scott, and I just thought –'

‘No.
No
. It's much too dangerous,' Gran said to Melissa. ‘You may think you've been dabbling in witchcraft with your gothic clothing and your crystals, but believe me, magic is not a game. None of this is.
You have no idea what you're up against.'

‘That's my whole point,' Melissa said. ‘
You
do! Once I start reading these books, I'll start to get an idea too, but I could do more. You've spent the last thirteen years protecting Callum from evil. Think how much stronger your protective spells could be if there were two of us working together!'